


12 Days of Christmas

by TorrieGrayson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 16:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14312640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorrieGrayson/pseuds/TorrieGrayson
Summary: 2017 Christmas drabbles featuring Team Free will and co.





	1. Christmas Music

You sat in the bunker library with your head buried in a book. The record player was currently spinning out the sweet sounds of Eartha Kitt’s “Santa Baby.” You’d found the record among the Men of Letters’ stash in room 7B. As the lyrics played on, you grumbled at how cheesy they were. You hated Christmas music, but the month was nearly halfway over, so this was your attempt to give yourself a little boost into the Christmas spirit. Sam and Dean were actually excited—whether they would admit it or not—to have a nice Christmas in the bunker this year, and you wanted to make sure they got it. Chuck knows they deserve it.

The next song, Elvis Pressley’s “Blue Christmas,” started playing, and you banged your head on the table with a groan.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Sam asked, taking the few steps up into the library, two coffees in hand.

You jumped, quickly placing a book over the one you were reading to hide it. “I’m fine, I just….I’m trying to get myself into the Christmas spirit. I mean, it’s right around the corner, but I’m not feeling very jolly.”

He offered you one of the mugs, to which you grumbled, “No thanks. I’ve got eggnog.” Begrudgingly, you took a sip of the white liquid, shuddering at the taste. You grabbed the bottle of whiskey that had been on the table and poured some in, giving the cup a swirl before tasting again, and humming in approval.

“Well how can you be if you’re reading…” he touched the book on the table in front of you, tilting it and turning his head awkwardly to peek at the chapter title on the page it was opened to, “’Virgin blood and the art of the fetal sacrifice,’” he continued, scrunching his face. “Why-“

You hadn’t read the title of the book you pulled to hide what you were really reading, and you laughed out loud, unable to keep up the façade. Sam just looked at you like you had lost your mind. “Alright, I have a confession to make,” you announced. Out from under the volume of lore, you pulled out a colorful book titled, “Handcrafted Christmas.”

He chuckled at your misery. “Why are you trying so hard to get into the holiday spirit, Y/N.”

“You and Dean seem really excited about it this year. I mean, Dean’s talking about putting up a tree,” you explained. “I’ve never cared for the holiday myself, but I know it means a lot to you two, so I’m trying to make sure you have a good one.”

Sam smiled down at you before swooping you up into a warm bear hug. “We’ll have a holly jolly Christmas as long as you’re with us, Y/N.” You smiled, hands gripping the back of his shirt.

“Did you just?”

“What? All I’m saying is there’s no place like home for the holidays,” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the wordplay that time.

“Don’t-” you started, pulling out of the hug and backing away, but he cut you off.

“I mean we’ve just gotta deck the halls, and the next thing you know you’ll be saying ‘it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.”

“You stop that!” you fussed at him, pointing a finger and making to run away.

“Y/N, where are you going? I’m just trying to say, It’s the most wonderful time of the year and all I want for Christmas is you!” He shouted after you as you grabbed your jacked and made for the steps to leave.

You slammed the bunker door behind you, but not before you heard Sam yelling, “Baby it’s cold outside!”

Dean walked into the war room, sipping from a holiday mug as he greeted Sam, looking up at the door and the source of the commotion. “You get her with the Christmas songs?”

“Yep.”

They both smiled and clanged their mugs together.


	2. Christmas With AnAngel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthazar’s got a Christmas surprise for you

You stirred in your bed, your body’s natural clock waking you. Balthazar’s arms were wrapped securely around you. You buried your face in his neck, scooting impossibly closer to him. You two had had a long night that spilled over into your morning, on top of that, it had just been a lazy day. “Good morning,” you yawned. Your voice mostly muffled by your position. When Balthazar didn’t respond, you lifted your head, gently pressing your lips to his before tilting up and pecking his nose and cheek. He stretched out, lying on his back, but he hadn’t done much more.

You smiled, unable to help yourself as you climbed to straddle him, placing your hands on his chest and leaning down so your lips barely brushed against the shell of his ear. “Balthazar,” your voice was a soft, sweet whisper, “wake up.”

His arms came up and his hands slid up and down your back as you sat up. “You know, it’s evening now,” he began before opening his bright blue eyes, “and I’m always awake.” You shot a glance out the window, the sky was growing dark. You really had slept the day away.

“Well then,” you started, bringing your attention back to him, walking your fingers up his chest and touching your finger to the tip of his nose, “why do you hold me every night and pretend to be asleep?”

He grabbed your hands in his, kissing your palms before lacing your fingers together. He took a thoughtful breath. “Because I know how much joy it brings you to wake me every morning.”

“You spoil me, angel.”

“I really do,” he hummed, looking up at you, his eyes full of adoration.

You went through a similar routine with Balthazar every morning and neither of you ever grew tired of it. You hopped off him, standing on your toes and stretching your arms above your head. “So, I was thinking,” you trailed off, walking away from him and down the stairs into the kitchen of the loft you shared.

Opening the fridge, you moved some things around until you reached the eggnog. As you closed the door and turned around, you could faintly hear the sound of wings fluttering. Balthazar stood on the other side of the island. “No,” he said firmly, pushing an empty glass towards you as he sipped rum from his own glass. You poured the eggnog in and returned the carton to the refrigerator. “But I haven’t even asked yet,” you purred, tilting your head down and looking at him through your lashes.

Balthazar turned, avoiding your gaze. He may have had little tolerance for humans in general, but he’d always had a hard time resisting you. Every day for the past week, you had been trying to convince him to celebrate Christmas with you. You didn’t want anything big or extravagant, just to acknowledge the holiday and to have a nice time with him. “Please?” you begged again, a playful pout covering your features as you caught up to him, pulling him into the living area.

“No.”

“But tomorrow’s Christmas.”

“That’s exactly it, Darling,” he started, “you know I detest the holiday.” You both sank down on the couch before he spoke again. “I just don’t get the purpose of it all. Why would an angel celebrate Christmas with a human?” For a split second, he saw hurt flash in your eyes. “With anyone,” he amended. 

“Because it’s important to me.” Your voice was small and you cast your head down, biting your lip. Balthazar didn’t have anything else to say, but he touched your chin, prompting you to look at him as he gave you an apologetic look. His eyes saying ‘no’ one final time. Your shoulders sank, realization setting in that he wasn’t going to budge on this one. “Could we at least watch something Christmasy?” you bargained. He agreed, and a few minutes later, you were in his arms on the couch watching “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

The movie had been long, and though you loved it, you always fell asleep on it.

When you woke again, you felt much warmer than you’d expected to be. You were lying on the couch with a blanket covering your body. You sat up and were taken aback by the scene in front of you. The fireplace that you never used was roaring and garland and Poinsettias framed the whole thing. There was even a giant wreath above the fireplace and new, more festive, curtains hanging from the tall windows. There were more flowers and candles everywhere, giving the room a warm, romantic feel. Next to the fireplace stood a massive Christmas tree, decorated from top to bottom with lights and beautiful ornaments.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you covered your mouth, fighting back the flood of emotions that threatened to burst out. You stood, looking around for Balthazar. You found him in the kitchen wearing an apron that read “we whisk you a merry Christmas.” He was leaned over the counter, his head buried in a holiday cookbook. You were about to speak when you noticed the little cake on the counter. “You made little strawberry Santas?!” you practically squealed, startling him.

“Y/N. Sweetheart,” he paused looking for the right words, “I hope this is-“

You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him fervently and before you knew it, the tears you were holding back finally fell. “This is perfect!” you praised. He let out the breath that he’d been holding since he noticed you in the kitchen. “It isn’t too much?” he asked, wiping away your tears.

You giggled, “It’s way too much,” you smiled. “But I love it!” You hugged him.

“I need to apologize for what I said earlier,” he started.

“I think you’ve got it all covered.”

He pulled back, placing his hands on your hips. “You know I adore you, don’t you?” he placed a hand against your cheek and you leaned into his touch. “And I don’t think any less of you for being human.”

Balthazar had never told you that he loved you, not with words at least. But his actions, on days like today when he’d strayed so far from his natural comforts just to make you smile, said everything that he hadn’t.

“I love you too,” you said back.

He let out a short laugh and kissed your forehead. “Merry Christmas, Love.”


	3. Snowball fight: Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Reader just being happy teens in the snow.

“This is dumb,” he thought. “This is so dumb. I’m freezing my ass off.”

Dean blew into his hands before rubbing them together, wishing he’d worn more than a band t-shirt and his leather jacket as he followed you deeper into the field of snow. “How much further?” he asked warily. He wasn’t sure he could stand it out here much longer.

“We’re almost there,” you said for what must have been the third or fourth time in the last few minutes. You had lured Dean out here with the promise of a surprise he’d never forget. You looked behind you and the distance between you and Dean had been growing. You stopped, letting him catch up with you.

“Hey, I know it’s freezing out here,” you started, grabbing onto his sleeve and pulling him to you. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around your waist. You could tell he was trying not to shiver and you almost felt bad for dragging him out here. You took off your shawl to wrap around him.

Taking advantage of the closeness, Dean bent down to kiss you. It was soft and gentle. His breath was warm against the frigid winter air, as his icy lips met yours. You smiled, and he tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth for a moment before letting go. “Alright, Alright. Cool those jets, Winchester,” you breathed, your face still so close to his that your lips brushed his lightly as you spoke. “Ready for your surprise?”

“Am I ever.” He said excitedly. Though he was looking forward to whatever you had planned for him, he was also ready to get out of the cold.

“Okay.” You smiled again, disconnecting yourself from him but leaving your shawl wrapped around his shoulders. “Close your eyes.” He blinked, but complied with no arguments. “Now,” you trailed off, sounding just a few feet further away, “count to ten.”

He sighed. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Dean opened his eyes to look at you, silently protesting. You crossed your arms in front of you. “Humor me,” you said. With a reluctant huff, he closed his eyes and began to count aloud. Dean stood there shivering in the middle of a snow-covered clearing, counting to ten. Just because you’d asked him to. He really was a catch, you thought. He’d considered that this might be a one-sided game of hide and seek, so he tried to listen for your footsteps. He didn’t hear a thing.

When he got to ten, he opened his eyes, fully expecting you to still be a few feet in front of him. He was surprised when you weren’t there. He looked around, but you were nowhere in sight. “Very funny, Y/N. You got me,” he called out. “You win, I can’t find you.” (even though you could hardly call what he’d done looking) Dean’s heart began to race when you didn’t respond. “Y/N!” he called out, making his way over to the nearest patch of trees.

He had only made it a few feet closer when he got the feeling that he was being watched. His instincts told him to turn around, so he did so quickly. Just in time for a huge snowball to hit him square in the face. “Surprise!” you yelled, laughing uncontrollably with a couple snowballs cradled in your arms.

“This is the surprise?” he asked incredulously. “You brought us all the way out here to ambush me with a snowball?” Dean cupped his hands over his face to wipe away the snow. As soon as it was clear, you launched another snowball at him, this one catching him in the face too. “Oh, you are so gonna pay for that!” He called, bending down to make a snowball.

Your eyes widened when you saw how big he was making it. You yelped and ran in a random direction, Dean chasing after you. You pulled your final reserve snowball from your arm and risked a glance to throw it at him, but you didn’t see him. Figuring he was trying to pull what you had earlier, you ran to the cover you made earlier this morning. You had come out here earlier, making snowball reserves and little walls of snow to hide behind.

You sat behind the wall trying to catch your breath as you made up a few more snowballs. You crawled to the side of the cover to peek out, gasping when you saw Dean’s boot. Slowly, you looked up. He had what was practically a snow bolder in his arms. “Hey,” he said, giving you a wry smile before he dropped the heap of snow on your head. You could hear him laughing as you dusted yourself off. The two of you played in the snow, battling like little kids until it was too cold to bear.

You both discarded your snow-covered boots at the door before you walked inside. You were still breathing heavily. “Have fun?” John asked from the kitchen.

“Hi, Mr. Winchester!” you beamed at him. Dean took your coat to hang on the rack with his own. The warm air in the house felt wonderful and to top it off, John had just finished making hot chocolate for everyone. He handed you a mug, and the three of you joined Sam and Mary the living room to settle down for a movie.


	4. Christmas Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> celebrating Christmas with benny on Lake Charles

“Are we there yet?” You asked teasingly for what must have been the fourth or fifth time now. You raised your hand to lift the blindfold from your eyes, hoping to catch a peek at your surroundings before your boyfriend could catch you.

“Don’t even think about it,” Benny warned from the driver seat. You had let him blindfold you and put you into the car. Admittedly, you were suspicious at first, but you quickly warmed up to the idea. If felt like you had been driving for at least 30 minutes now, and you were starting to get antsy.

“Are we there yet?” you asked again, a playful grin on your lips. You heard Benny sigh and mutter something under his breath.

“Cher,” he started. Suddenly you could feel his hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down, silently asking you to be patient. “Five more minutes. Promise.”

As promised, five minutes—or so you assumed—passed and Benny slowed the car to a stop. Before he got out of the car, he warned you not to lift the blindfold until he told you to. A few seconds later, and he was guiding you out of the truck. He had one hand holding yours, and the other at the small of your back, gently pushing you forward as you walked down a concrete path…street? Sidewalk? You inhaled deeply, trying to see if you could catch a whiff of something—anything to give you a clue as to where Benny had taken you. You were getting antsy. “I smell food,” you paused, “and water?” you finished, blindly looking around for confirmation.

You heard him chuckle beside you. “You ever heard the saying ‘patience is a virtue’?”

You were about to dish out a witty response, but suddenly you could hear the growing murmur of a crowd a little ways ahead, children playing and live music somewhere further off.

Finally, Benny stopped you, pulling the blindfold off before wrapping his arms around your hips. You blinked your eyes a few times to let them adjust to the scenery. You were met with a line of trees along a lake, all expertly lit with Christmas lights. They all reflected in the water, making it look like a rippling rainbow against the dim surroundings. Further down the path, you could see a little carnival bustling to life as the crowd grew thicker. “Wow,” you thought aloud. “Where are we?”

“Lake Charles,” Benny said, kissing you on the cheek. You swore you could hear pride in his voice. “Thought I’d show you a true Louisiana Christmas.”

You turned in his arms to give him a quick kiss, “Benny, this is beautiful!”

“Yes, it is,” he smiled, looking into your eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesy line, “come on, Cassinova,” you teased, turning back in the direction of the crowd, eager to explore the carnival.


	5. Riding in a One Horse Open Sleigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of a Christmas festival with Jack

Sam looked at his watch, then glanced over at Dean. It was one in the morning. “They’re still out,” he started, clenching his jaw and trying to hide the worry in his voice. “Should we call?” He and Dean had been sitting in the War Room, ‘researching’ on their laptops. Really, they had been expecting you and Jack to walk through the door any minute now. They had been like this for two hours, glancing at their watches, wondering if they should call again or start searching for you.

Determined to make sure Jack would have fond memories to look back on as he got older—seeing that he hadn’t really had a childhood—you talked Sam and Dean into letting you take him to the Christmas festival a few towns over.

Dean pulled out his phone and dialed your number, to his dismay, he was greeted by your voicemail for the fourth time tonight.

He sighed. He and Sam had certainly grown used to Jack by now, but they couldn’t help but be wary that something might have happened. Maybe he’d accidentally used his powers, maybe there was a monster lurking that the two of you couldn’t handle by yourselves, maybe Asmodeus had found Jack and- Dean put the phone down, stopping his thoughts from going down that path and also not bothering to leave a message. “Alright,” he said, standing up and grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go-“

He was cut off by the intruding sound of the bunker door flinging open. You and jack came through, giggling like idiots and doing a poor job of trying to be quiet. Each of you had a wad of cotton candy on a stick, laughing and loudly talking about your night as you made your way down the steps. You hadn’t even noticed Sam and Dean sitting at the table.

“Where the hell have you two been?” he inquired, casting an accusatory glare in your direction.

“We’ve been calling you for hours,” Sam continued.

You both looked up at them, eyes wide like twin deer caught in the headlights. Jack spoke first. “Oh, Y/N lost her phone on the horse,” he smiled.

You swatted at his arm, “You promised you wouldn’t say anything!” your voice laced with feigned betrayal.

Dean crossed his arms and Sam shifted his stance. You realized they must have been worried about you two. They looked like two television mothers who had waited up in the living room, ready to catch their teen who was out past curfew. “The horse?” Sam asked, disbelieving.

“Yeah,” you explained, “we went riding in a one-horse open sleigh.”

“Hey!” jack shouted around a mouth full of dissolving cotton candy, his lips tinged blue in some places.

You couldn’t suppress the laugh that had risen in your chest after hearing the cheesy joke.

Sam and Dean were glaring at the both of you, making you feel guilty that they were worried about you and Jack and you had been out having a blast.

“We’re fine, really.” You tried to appease them. “We were having so much fun, and I didn’t even realize I lost my phone until we were on the way back.”

Dean looked from you to Jack and he couldn’t help the smile that had crossed his face. “Alright,” he said, uncrossing his arms. “You,” he pointed at Jack, “go wash your face.” He waved him off before he turned to you “And you,” he sighed.

“Don’t do that again, we were worried.” Sam finished for him.

“Yes sirs,” you replied, stepping forward to give them both a hug.


	6. Dean Winchester loves Fuzzy Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean Winchester has taken your bed hostage

You took your time making the bed. Carefully stretching the sheets across the mattress and tucking them in at the foot. You couldn’t help yourself. You had had a long day, having finished off a case yesterday and taking the long drive back to the bunker immediately after. You were exhausted, but you decided to stick it out for a little longer and took the time to have a relaxing shower and you knew you were about to enjoy these clean sheets and your new heated blanket, so you took care to make sure it was all perfect.

When you finished, you stripped out of the ‘dead guy’ robe you had been wearing and slipped under the blankets. The heated blanket was already doing its job; the bed was warm and cozy. As you settled in, getting comfy, you heard a knock on the door of your room. You groaned into your pillow, silently cursing whoever had come to bother you. Turning over to face the door, you called, “come in.”

It was Dean. “Please don’t make me get out of this bed,” you pleaded. He chuckled, it was low and he seemed thoughtful.

“I won’t. Promise.” He’s said. “Mind if I join you?” Occasionally, you and Dean would sleep together. You can’t remember when it started, but it had become sort of a ritual after the particularly hard or exhausting hunts. Sometimes he just needed company, a hand to hold, and sometimes so did you. You lifted the covers a little, inviting him in.

He quickly took the invitation, shedding his t-shirt and pajama pants before sliding in next to you. He reveled in the feel of the soft sheets and the unexpected warmth that covered the bed. Suddenly, Dean moaned. A sultry, sated sound coming from deep within his chest. You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Feels good,” he defended with a shrug, grinning at you. He wiggled closer to you under the blankets until your bodies were touching. He placed a hand on our hip, pulling you closer to him as he slid his arm down for you to rest your head on. He leaned down and kissed your forehead.

When you woke up the next morning, Dean was sprawled on top of you. Your legs were tangled, he had one arm around your waist, and his head was buried between your neck and shoulder as he snored lightly. You hadn’t felt it in your sleep, but the weight of him, and your inability to move under him made you a little uncomfortable. Reaching your hands up to nudge his shoulders, you whispered, “Dean. Dean, move over.”

He stirred, rolling off you and pulling you to him, the curve of your body fitting comfortably to his. He was asleep and snoring again in no time.

Dean had slept in your bed for a week straight after that. One morning, you were up and making breakfast with Sam in the kitchen. “Is he still asleep?” Sam asked, filling a plate with eggs and fruit.

“It’s that damned blanket. He’s taken my bed hostage for the past week.” You sighed. “I can’t say I blame him though.” You took another sip from your mug before you stood and said, “I’m gonna go make sure he’s still breathing.”

Further inspection found Dean, still snoring in your bed under the cozy blankets. Climbing onto the bed and resting on your knees, you rubbed his shoulder to wake him gently. He jerked a little, a string of drool connecting from his arm to his mouth. You tried to stifle your laughter. “Mornin’,” he smiled up at you.

“You’ve got a little something there,” you pointed to his arm, “and there,” you finished, gesturing to his mouth. He wiped the drool away sheepishly. You hummed thoughtfully. “You know, I would never have taken you for a fuzzy blanket kind of person.”

“It heats up!” he stated, still amazed.

You laughed at him, reminded of when he would go on and on about his memory foam mattress that ‘remembered him’. “Tell you what.”

He hummed, stretching out. “If you promise to let me have my bed back, I’ll buy you one of these blankets for Christmas.” His eyes lit up and a moment later he was getting out of the bed. “Sam and I made breakfast,” you offered, getting up to return to the kitchen.

“Is there bacon?”

“Of course, there’s bacon, who do you think I am?” you said, walking down the hallway.


	7. Wishing on a Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a few surprises up his sleeve

You opened the door to the bunker, calling out Dean’s name a few times but there was no answer. You dropped off the groceries in the kitchen, keeping the six pack of beers with you as you looked around for him. He had sent you on a beer run, which was odd, considering he usually liked to do that himself. You took the time to grab a few groceries while you were out. After checking your rooms and the bathroom, you stood in the hall and wondered where he could be. You pulled out your phone and sent him a text.

“Where are you?”

“Roof.”

“How?”

“Garage.”

You quirked your eyebrow, tucking your phone back into your pocket as you made your way through the halls down to the garage. When you got there, you saw him coming down a tall ladder that was bolted to the wall in the far corner. You’d never noticed it before.

“Why are we hanging out on the roof, again?” you asked, following him back up the ladder, beers tucked safely under your arm.

“You’ll see.”

When you reached the roof, Dean couldn’t hide the triumphant smile that marked his face as you looked around. There were layers of blankets and pillows spread out surrounded by Christmas lights, and there was even a miniature Christmas tree near the blankets. You smiled. “Wow.”

He walked over to you, taking the beers and setting them near the blankets and wrapped his arms around you. “You like it? I thought I’d try to surprise you with something different.”

“Yeah, this is,” you paused, looking up at him. “Mission accomplished.” Dean kissed your forehead.

Moments later, you were lying between the blankets. Dean was propped up slightly on some pillows, and you rested your head on his shoulder. His fingers were laced in yours and you both had been looking up at the stars. You caught sight of a shooting star passing by and you pointed it out to him. “Make a wish,” you said.

Dean closed his eyes and thought for a moment. What would he wish for? There were still monsters, but the world hadn’t been ending. Sam and Cas, everyone he loved was safe, and he had you in his arms. Resting on the bunker roof, where the most pressing issue was what to wish for, he realized he had everything he wanted in that moment, so as he lay there with his eyes closed, he just wished for things to stay as they were.


	8. Too many kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has had it with the Christmas decorations. There’s no plot to this. I just started typing and didn’t stop until I felt it was ridiculous enough

Sam peppered light kisses all over your face, waking you with a smile. Finally he pressed his lips to your. The kiss was gentle, but it quickly became more passionate. Carding your fingers into his hair, you pulled away slightly. “You’re awfully enthusiastic this morning.”

Sam let out a small laugh, rubbing his nose to yours for a moment before telling you to look up. You did as you were told, and there was a little sprig of mistletoe hanging above the bed. Now, when had he put that there? It wasn’t there when you went to sleep.

“You sneaky devil,” you teased, nipping at his bottom lip.

“I know. Breakfast?”

“Yes!” you all but shouted.

Dean was sitting at the table having his coffee and scrolling through articles on his laptop when you walked in. You fixed your plate and sat next to him. Dean spoke as soon as your butt hit the seat. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Dean?” you said, looking up from your food and turning to look at him. Before you realized what was happening, Dean kissed you. It was softer than you had expected it to be, it was quick, like if you blinked you would have missed it, it made your cheeks flush beet red and your eyes widened. Dean Winchester just kissed you, his brother’s girlfriend, right in front of him! Did that just happen?

Dean turned back to his coffee, taking a sip as if he hadn’t just kissed you. You looked back at Sam, he was staring into the fridge and he didn’t seem to notice. You cleared your throat. “Dean?”

“Hm?” He hadn’t looked up.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

Was he serious?! He just kissed you!

“Did you just,” your brows furrowed before you leaned in and spoke a little softer, “Did you just kiss me?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Mistletoe.” He spoke as if it were nothing.

Bewildered, you looked up. As sure as the Winchesters loved flannel, there was mistletoe hanging from the kitchen ceiling directly above you and Dean.

Later, you were all sitting in the Library. Dean was looking for cases on his laptop, Sam was on the phone with a fellow hunter, giving some expert advice, and you were just toying around on your cell phone. More keeping them company than fulfilling any specific roll right now. You had kept your distance from Dean the rest of the morning. He didn’t seem to think anything of the kiss earlier, but you were a little shocked. There was a knock on the bunker door, drawing you out of your thoughts..

Sam tucked the phone down, covering the receiver. “Hey, that should be Charlie. Y/N, could you let her in?”

A wave of relief washed over you as you made your way up the steps to the door. Charlie was your best friend, you could confide in her, tell her about your bizarre morning, and maybe you would feel more at ease. To your surprise, Castiel was there when you opened the door, not Charlie.

“Oh. Hi Castiel.” You smiled at him, opening your arms for a hug.

“Hello Y/N,” he said, patting your back.

He pulled back a little, keeping you in his arms as he leaned his head down and captured your lips with his. It had caught you completely off guard, so much so that you hadn’t even realized you moved until you felt your back press against the wall. Cas’ arms trailed down around your hips, pulling you close to him as he deepened the kiss. For a moment, you let yourself get so distracted that your body started to respond to him. You were kissing him back, hands sliding down his arms and then you caught yourself and pushed him away gently.

“I’m sorry,” he began to apologize, “Too much tongue.” He’d criticized himself like he knew exactly what the problem was. In reality, it had been prefect. You’d never even considered kissing Castiel before, so you were shocked to find that he was pretty good at it.

“Why,” you started, but looked up to find another sprig of mistletoe above the bunker door. You looked back to Cas. “Where did you even learn-“ you started, but he cut you off.

“I watched a pornographic film, starring a pizza man and a babysitter,” he smiled at you proudly.

You just stood there, kind of shocked and trying to process the information. You blinked your eyes, fighting the mental image of Castiel, Angel of the Lord, watching cliché porn.

When you got to back to the table, you stood with your arms crossed. “Sam?”

“Yeah, Y/N?” He hadn’t looked up from his laptop.

“Why in the world did you put mistletoe all over the bunker?”

He looked up at you as if you should have known the answer. “Christmas decorations,” he’d said, returning to his laptop.

“Of course,” you sighed. Christmas decorations. “Yeah, I get that, but Sam? Why are there so many?!”

“What?” he looked at you again, completely oblivious to the issue you were getting at. There’s only like,” he paused, counting in his head, “five?”

“Okay. I’m gonna go shoot something. When I come back, I expect you to have toned down the ‘Christmas decorations’.” You turned, dismissing yourself from the room, just as you reached the steps, Crowley appeared in front of you. He was actually holding the mistletoe in his hands this time. “Hello, love.”

You threw your hands in the air. Giving up on the day, you pushed past Crowley and said. “I’m going to bed! Wake me up when those damned plants are gone!”


	9. Decorating the Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decorating with your sister, jody

“Well,” you said, dusting glitter off of your hands and onto your jeans. “That’s everything.” You turned to Jody as she was walking back into the living room with two mugs of eggnog. 

“Hey!” she smiled, looking at the tree. “I like it!”

“Just needs the Winchester seal of approval,” you said, sitting down next to her on the couch and taking the mug she offered to you. The two of you had been marathoning Christmas movies while decorating the tree. 

Sam and Dean were coming over for Christmas this year to spend the weekend with you and your sister Jody. 

Jody grunted as if to say ‘yeah right’. “Y/N, if Sam and Dean have anything to say about that tree, they can take it down and redo it themselves. I think we did a good job,” she said, taking an appreciative glance at the tree. “They’ll love it.”

You hummed and took a sip from your mug. Immediately, you felt the rum slide down your throat and it nearly choked you. “Wow, Jody.” You coughed once and cleared your throat. “I think there’s eggnog in this rum,” you joked. 

“Just a little,” she smiled, taking a long sip and looking back to the TV.


	10. Driving Home For chriatmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes you to meet his family for the holiday

Sam was gripping the wheel tight in his hands as he drove down the long highway. The two of you were on break from school, and despite some hesitation from Sam, you had talked him into letting you meet his family over the holiday break. He had told you that they moved around a lot. He and his dad had a strained relationship, and he hadn’t seen his brother in over a year.

You argued that it was the holiday, that they should at least be together for Christmas for the memories. He was even more nervous because he was essentially bringing you home to ‘meet the parents,’ and that was a big deal in itself.

You smiled at him from the passenger seat. He’s had the same tense look on his face all night and though you wanted him to relax, he was so cute when he was nervous.

You turned to him, placing one of your hands over his, letting him know that he could relax. You still had a few more hours left, so you offered to drive the rest of the way so he could rest.

As if on cue, Sam yawned. With a heavy sigh, he agreed, pulling over for you to switch seats. A few hours later, you pulled into the parking lot of the hotel you would be staying in. You had told Sam that it would be fine to stay in the house with John and Dean, but he had insisted that the two of you might want some privacy over the break. In reality, he had seen it as sparing you from being trapped in a house with three Winchesters who could barely get along.

It was Christmas Eve, and Sam started buttoning his shirt in the mirror, but he was now pacing the hotel room like a madman. You watched him for a moment as you came out of the bathroom.

You walked over to him, placing your hands on his chest so you could tiptoe up to his height to kiss him. “It’s just your dad and your brother, how bad can it be?”

He responded with a weary laugh as if to say, ‘you have no idea what we’re in for.’

When you finally met John and Dean, they hadn’t been what you’d expected. They were much more disjointed than your family, but Sam had warned you about that beforehand. You came with a six pack of beer and a bottle of whiskey as a peace offering.

Admittedly, things were a little rocky at first, but things quickly fell into place as the night went on. They clearly hadn’t gotten together for the holidays in a while, so you were happy that they had gone through the effort for you and Sam.

The night went much better than you expected, so you and Sam slept on the couch bed until morning. You got up early to surprise everyone with breakfast, remembering that the way to Dean’s heart was through his stomach. John had appreciated the meal too, and Sam finally seemed to relax completely. Later, the four of you exchanged gifts and sat down for a few movies.

The visit had gone so well that John said that you and Sam were welcome to stay until the New Year before driving back to school. It had been a wonderful week. You loved meeting Sam’s family, and they seemed to like you too. You were sure the drinks and food had a lot to do with that though.

On the way back to Stanford, Sam had pointed out that this was the first good Christmas they’d had as a family in quite a few years. He thanked you for making sure everyone had a good time together. He hadn’t expected to be leaving his dad and his brother with a genuine smile on his face, but that had been how the visit ended, and he had no regrets about any of it.


	11. Traditions: christmas stockings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We decorate stockings every year in my family, so this is just a little drabble expanding on that.

Sam and Dean had let you talk them into putting a giant Christmas tree in the bunker. They’d let you put lights and decorations in the rooms and down the halls. They didn’t complain when you blasted Michael Buble’s Christmas album over the PA system. They actually liked when you were baking cookies and cooking breakfast for the week leading up to Christmas. They drew the line when you brought a ton of glitter, glue and oversized—we’re talking 4 feet long—Christmas stockings into the bunker, demanding that they decorate them with something unique.

You explained that it was something your mom made you and your siblings do before she passed away and it made you happy to keep the tradition going. After a little nudging and the promise of an even bigger breakfast on Christmas day, here you all were in the library having a Men of Letters crafting hour. 

When the glitter and glue were dry, Sam helped you hang them up on the balcony. You were genuinely surprised at how well they had come out. Dean’s stocking had a pie, Sam’s had a pentagram, Cas’ had an angel blade, Jack’s had golden angel wings, and yours had the Men of Letters star on it, along with ‘Team Free Will 2.0.’


	12. One Last Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Sam have pleasant Christmas surprises for each other

This had been the most exciting Christmas you’d had in a long time. Sam had proposed to you this morning, and of course you said yes. You had exchanged a few other gifts shortly after that, but you decided to wait a little longer—when he was least expecting it—to give him his last gift.

In the meantime, the two of you were marathoning Christmas movies. You had gotten up, excusing yourself to the bathroom and telling him to keep the movie playing. In reality, you had just gone to the kitchen to grab the little box you hid in the back of one of the cabinets a few weeks ago.

The box was just bigger than the palm of your hand and you looked it over a few more times on the way back to Sam on the couch. When you reached him, you placed your hands on his shoulders and said, “Do me a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“Close your eyes?” You could tell he was a little skeptical, but he complied without making a fuss. Gently, you tilted his head back to make sure they were closed, and you kissed him for his cooperation. He kissed you back, reaching his hands up and into your hair, quickly deepening the kiss.

You pulled away after a moment. “Hold your hands out.”

“Did you hide a gift and forget about it again? He teased, referencing the time when you had hidden his birthday gift so well you couldn’t find it until a week after the day.

“No,” you laughed. “Just keep them closed,” you said to Sam. He obeyed, and you had to admit that he looked so adorable sitting on your couch with his eyes closed and his hands out ready for you to place something in them. You walked around the couch, sidling up next to him and placing the box in his hands.

He opened his eyes and looked at the box, giving it an experimental shake before pulling the wrapping paper off it. Inside, there was a small black and white photo. Sam looked confused for a moment, but he quickly caught on. “You’re pregnant?!”

You nodded. His eyes were beginning to well with tears before he could get another word out, so he settled for tackling hugging you.

“How far are you? How long have you known? When-“

He had begun to bombard you with questions, so you kissed him again to get him to stop talking. He picked you up and you maneuvered so you were straddling his hips. His hands slid up your sides, resting on your back, pulling you closer.

You kissed until you heard a silly line in the movie that was playing, prompting you to break apart from each other and laugh out loud.

Sam fidgeted under you impatiently. “You didn’t answer any of my questions.” He was practically whining.

You smiled down at him. “I’m 8 weeks along, and I found out a little over a month ago.” You held your breath, hoping he wouldn’t be upset that you didn’t tell him sooner.

“You’ve been holding onto this for a month?!”

“Yes, and trust me, it’s been the hardest thing. I would have told you sooner, but I wanted to wait until today.”

“I love you so much,” he said before hugging you one more time.

Sam was happier than he could remember being in such a long time. He was finally getting his happy ending.


End file.
